


Work 'Til Morning

by chasesstarlight



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, magic shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-05 14:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16369589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasesstarlight/pseuds/chasesstarlight
Summary: After an unorthodox attempt at sabotage, Velveteen Dream does his best to help Aleister deal with the after-effects.





	Work 'Til Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Happy Halloween! Have some vaguely supernatural-flavoured smut.  
> Title from Let's Work by Prince. (Yeah, I know. No, I'm not sorry.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Velveteen Dream first saw the red haze out of the corner of his eye, he assumed someone had switched on some mood lighting. He couldn’t blame them, honestly; Full Sail’s decor remained stubbornly bland aside from whatever room the Dream was currently standing in. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, so he supposed the rest of the building had to make do with whatever they had on hand.

 

The tendrils of red smoke were a bit much, he had to admit. He wasn’t sure where someone had found a machine that could create coloured smoke, and made a mental note to track down whoever it was; this use might be tacky, but there was some theatrical potential to the idea. His line of thought was interrupted by a bright flash, however, and an odd chanting from down the hallway. It seemed to be originating from wherever the smoke was flowing out from, and despite himself Dream was somewhat intrigued. He turned to stride down the hallway, running his hand through the smoke and feeling the tendrils curl around his fingers. It felt oddly warm and dense, pulsating faintly in a way that reminded Dream of a heartbeat, and he pulled his hand back in distaste.

 

Mildly disturbing or not, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Dream crept down the hallway, instinctively trying not to breathe in the smoke even as it started to flood the hallway to the extent that it was getting difficult to see. Brushing a hand against the wall to stay steady, Dream kept walking in the direction of the increasingly familiar-sounding voice when his hand caught on something and he stumbled. The mop and bucket he’d run into clattered to the floor, water spilling and flowing in the direction of the voices, and the faint glow of the light faded and there was a loud _crack_.

 

When the smoke cleared a little, Dream could see Aleister snatch a battered book out of Lars Sullivan’s hands. He said a few words Dream couldn’t make out, an odd echo to his voice, and the smoke changed colour to a much more normal grey. It seemed to flow into Sullivan for a few beats, who flinched and stumbled back before turning and half-running off, leaving damp footprints from the soapy water across the hallway.

 

The second Sullivan was out of view, Aleister slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, making a quiet sound that might be pain or fatigue; whichever it was, Dream told himself he was just checking whether he himself might be poisoned and  walked over to Aleister. He crouched in front of him, finding Aleister’s eyes somewhat hazy; when he brushed a hand against his neck, Aleister jumped. He swallowed and the pattern of his breathing changed, slow and steady like he’d made a significant effort to make it so.

 

“That was very unusual, even for you,” Dream said, voice level. Aleister didn’t respond, but he did lean into Dream’s hand a little, which was unexpected. His skin was flushed, radiating heat, and when Dream moved his hand to Aleister’s shoulder he felt his breath hitch. Dream could see tension in the lines of his shoulders and the set of his jaw, even if his expression was still carefully blank, and he crouched in front of him to take a closer look.

 

“If you’re about to keel over, do let me know. The Dream has no interest in being part of a murder investigation.”

 

Aleister breathed out, hints of amusement in his expression for a second, before he tensed up again, gasping and closing his eyes for a second.

 

This was just getting unnerving. Dream ignored  the creeping, uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach in favour of staring Aleister down.

 

“What did he do to you?”

 

Silence.

 

“Aleister?”

 

When he got no response again, Dream reached out to touch the side of Aleister’s jaw, trying to snap him out of it and pay attention to him. For a second, he could’ve sworn Aleister leaned into his hand, melting into the touch and making a quiet sound at the back of his throat. Then, he flinched back, shaking his head slightly and glancing up to meet Dream’s eyes.

 

“I’ll be fine. Go, he might be back.”

 

That was an outrageous suggestion. “I’m not just going to _leave you here_ , you can’t be serious. What’s wrong with you? What was that ogre trying to do?”

 

For just a second, a comfortingly normal look of irritation crossed Aleister’s face. “Not this, I assume.” He gestured vaguely at the book. “I imagine he picked something from my notes at random and then butchered the execution.” He glanced up at Dream. “And then you stopped it with running water. Very smart.”

 

Well, it wasn’t like Dream was going to refuse credit. “Of course. So what’s…” He trailed off, taking in the view before him. Aleister’s flushed skin, the shallow, carefully controlled way he was breathing, the dazed eyes. He glanced down to the trunks he was still wearing.

 

Oh.

 

Aleister glanced down again, clearly trying very hard to keep his composure. “Go. It’ll pass.”

 

Part of Dream considered running for it, but - this didn’t look like it was going to just solve itself. A thought crossed his mind, and suddenly it was like an icy hand wrapped itself around his lungs - what if Sullivan _had_ meant to do this?

 

Another hitched breath brought him back to the here and now, and without really thinking about it, he reached out a hand to the side of Aleister’s neck, stroking gently along his jaw with his thumb. The sigh of relief he let out in response made his decision for him. He glanced around the hallway; the nearest door looked like it was some sort of office. That’d have to do; at least it’d be more sheltered than staying out here in the open.

 

When he removed his hand, Aleister twitched in his direction like part of him really wanted to follow it. He let Dream drape his arm over his shoulder and haul him to his feet, trying to help but too uncoordinated to be much use. Getting them both through the doorway without knocking anything over took some effort, but he managed to get Aleister into the office and close the door behind him. When he turned back, Aleister was leaning back against the desk, fingers gripping the edge so hard his knuckles had turned white.

 

Dream stepped in close and reached out a hand, trailing his fingers down his chest down to the waistband of Aleister’s trunks, when a hand wrapped around his wrist. Dream glanced up, irrationally vaguely offended.

 

Aleister swallowed, then said, voice strained, “You don’t have to do this. You have no responsibility here.”

 

Tugging his hand free and feeling Aleister arch into his touch, Dream sighed. If he were honest with himself, a bland office with cheap IKEA furniture wasn’t really how he’d imagined any of this. He’d been picturing more wine and fine silk sheets and a chance to have Aleister desperate for _him,_ not whatever weird voodoo nonsense this was.

 

Well, no matter now. Dream touched his fingers to Aleister’s cheekbone and said, keeping his voice light, “I can’t have you dying of magic blue-balls before I get my rematch. Lie back and think of Holland.”

 

Aleister actually laughed at that, breaking the tension, even as it turned into a moan as the movement pushed him further into Dream’s hand. Dream suddenly felt a lot lighter; he stifled a grin, then trailed his fingers down to stroke against Aleister’s cock. His hips twitched, and when he glanced up he saw Aleister worry at his lip ring with his teeth. When Dream swept his thumb along Aleister’s lips, he mouthed at it; as Dream’s fingers dipped into his trunks and took him in hand, he turned his head to stifle a moan into Dream’s hand.

 

Dream was far too distracted for anything particularly creative, but he figured it wouldn’t take much anyway, considering the state Aleister was in. He guessed correctly; he’d barely wrapped his fingers around Aleister’s cock before he felt his hips stutter and and his knees start to buckle. Letting him crash to the floor seemed inconsiderate, so Dream quickly moved to wrap his arms around Aleister and set him down on the desk. Somewhere along the way, Aleister’s arms had come up around his neck, and Dream could feel him shudder with aftershocks everywhere they were pressed together. He kept his arms around Aleister, stroking his fingers up and down his spine as Aleister struggled to catch his breath, face hidden in the crook of Dream’s neck.

 

Initially, Dream thought that would be enough. After a few moments, though, he felt Aleister shift against him, and he made a desperate sound against Dream’s throat that went straight down to his cock. Aleister pressed up against him, wrapping his legs around Dream’s waist, and Dream could feel he was still hard. By now, he was, too, and he suddenly felt guilty; it wasn’t like Aleister had _chosen_ any of this. Aleister must’ve felt him tense up, and he leaned  back a little, unwinding his arms from Dream’s neck and resting a hand against his collarbone. Aleister tilted his head slightly, waiting patiently despite the fact that his breath caught every time Dream brushed against his skin.

 

Dream turned away slightly, averting his eyes because he couldn’t think straight, not with Aleister pressed against him and looking at him like that. It felt like heat was radiating from Aleister’s hand on his shoulder; for all he knew, the weird botched magic was contagious. Fingertips pressed into his skin slightly, and Dream glanced back up. Aleister’s skin was still flushed, breath coming out in shallow gasps, but his eyes were clearer than they’d been before.

 

“I am grateful, but you can still leave if you need to.”

 

Wonderful. _Gratitude_. Exactly the kind of emotion he’d been hoping for in this kind of situation. Dream tried to stifle the dismay, but something must’ve shown up on his face; the sudden frown was incongruous with the way Aleister couldn’t seem to stop himself from tracing his thumb along Dream’s collarbone. It was incredibly distracting, and Dream stilled the hand with his own.

 

He bit his lip. For all he knew, Aleister wasn’t going to remember any of this anyway; honesty couldn’t do any harm at this point. “I had… different plans, for this. Ones not involving magic aphrodisiacs.” All of a sudden, he had trouble making eye contact, and so had no idea whether the sniff from Aleister was disdain or amusement or anything else. He felt Aleister turn his hand over and move Dream’s to brush a kiss against his knuckles; there was a quick squeeze of his fingers, and Aleister said, “I’d have very much preferred that.”

 

Dream suddenly felt about a hundred pounds lighter. When he looked back up, there were traces of a smile around the corners of Aleister’s mouth, and Dream could feel himself grin in return.

 

“Next time?” He asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Aleister inclined his head, then moaned quietly as Dream pulled him to the edge of the desk, pressing them closer together. Getting Aleister’s trunks entirely off would’ve required stepping away, which wasn’t an acceptable option, so Dream settled for pushing them down past his hips; Aleister helpfully wrapped his legs around him even tighter, making it easy to lift him up and slide them past his ass. Aleister shuddered when Dream’s hands touched his bare skin and made a barely-muffled sound of frustration when Dream set him back down.

 

“Ssh,” Dream muttered, stroking his fingertips up and down Aleister’s spine and feeling him arch into his hand. He glanced around, then shrugged and, with a brief thought of apology to whoever’s office this was, grabbed a tube of hand lotion and gently nudged Aleister to lay back on the desk. Aleister hooked his ankles together behind Dream, pulling him in closer, only to lose focus entirely when Dream pressed two slicked fingers into him. He moaned, shaky and hoarse, and Dream bent down to swallow the sound in a kiss. Dream didn’t have any more patience than Aleister seemed to have left, so he pushed down his own tights, slicked up his cock the best he could and thrust into Aleister with as much care as he could manage. The arms wrapped around his neck pulled him down to the point where he started to overbalance, so he wrapped one arm around the small of Aleister’s back, lifting him up and using the other to brace himself against the desk.

 

Aleister couldn’t seem to stay quiet, now, stifling moans against Dream’s neck, his cheek, his lips. When Dream started to move in earnest, he made a sound that was halfway to a scream, and Dream fervently hoped everyone had left the building by now. That was about the last coherent thought he had; as Aleister’s fingernails left tiny paths of electricity trailing down his neck and spine, everything but the touch of Aleister’s skin against his seemed to fade out of focus.

 

Dream was deeply relieved the weird witchcraft didn’t give Aleister magical stamina or anything; feeling him clench and shiver as he came sent Dream over the edge as well, and it took serious effort to not drop Aleister like a stone. He managed to lay Aleister back down with a reasonable amount of care, then gave in to his own wobbly knees and sank to the floor, tucking himself back into his tights, then leaning back against the desk and closing his eyes. As an anchor, he lightly wrapped one hand around Aleister’s calf, which was dangling next to him.

 

After a few moments, he felt Aleister shift, and then he slid down to the floor next to Dream, trunks back in place but looking entirely dishevelled otherwise. He looked at Dream fondly, then frowned and reached for his neck. It stung a little, and Dream reached back behind his own neck and spine to feel the scratches there. He glanced back at Aleister, raising his eyebrows.

 

Aleister looked somewhat embarrassed, and the longer Dream looked at him, the harder it became to keep a straight face.

 

“Sorry,” Aleister said, voice still rough. “I didn’t realise - “

 

“It’s alright,” Dream replied. “It’s hard to keep control when I’m just that incredible, I know.”

 

Aleister might’ve hidden his face in his hands, but Dream could see the edges of a grin, the tell-tale shake to his shoulders. Dream grinned as well, and lightly rested a hand on Aleister’s upper back.

 

“It was certainly an experience,” Aleister said through his hands, smile still audible in his voice. Dream idly trailed his fingers up and down his spine, then looked around the room they were in.

 

“Whose office is this, anyway? I could swear it looks familiar.”

 

Next to him, Aleister glanced around, then froze. Curious what could’ve caused that reaction, Dream followed his gaze to the stack of papers they’d probably sent flying somewhere along the way.

 

He couldn’t quite make out what all the notes said, but he’d definitely seen that handwriting before. He swallowed, and fought the urge to grab Aleister’s hand and run for it.

 

Regal was going to kill them both.

 

 

* * *

 


End file.
